A Clerk of Oxford, and His Adventures in the Barons' War

by Evelyn Everett-Green

"Nevertheless he is about to do a bolder thing than any King has attempted since the days of the Saxons," answered Edmund, laughing; "for he declares that his first action will be, on entering Oxford, to pay a visit to the shrine of St. Frideswyde!"

"And wherefore should he not?" asked both girls in a breath; whereupon Leofric was called upon to tell the legend of St. Frideswyde—how she had taken the vow of chastity, but was pestered without ceasing by the King of Mercia, who desired her hand in marriage. She fled from him to Oxford, where he pursued her, laying siege to the town; but in answer to her prayers he was struck with blindness, and returned to his own country, leaving her in peace to found her nunnery and devote herself to the religious life. But since that date no King had ever ventured to intrude himself even to lay offerings upon her shrine, and the resolution of Henry the Third to brave the anger of the virgin saint was regarded as a proof of piety and courage, since he openly declared that he could not believe any ill would be suffered to follow an act of homage to one whom he revered and desired to honour.

Upon the morrow the city was bedecked with banners and costly cloths, and the Constable, together with the Chancellor and all men of importance in the city, went forth to meet the King and his nobles, to bid them welcome to the city, and to conduct them to the church of St. Frideswyde. Here a procession of Canons, with the Abbot at their head, would be waiting to receive the monarch, and to conduct him to the shrine, where miracles were still said to be worked.

Alys and Linda rode forth with the company from the Castle to see the sight, and Edmund, with Leofric and one or two other comrades, formed their body-guard. It was strange to see the streets of Oxford so empty of their crowds of eager students, who, upon an occasion like this, would naturally have been thronging out with songs and garlands, ready alike for a riot or a reception. But although there were still some scholars who had given no heed to the King's arbitrary decree, they had no intention of showing him any honour, and remained within their own quarters, save a few who, like Edmund and Leofric, had some cause to go forth in one of the processions.

Amalric, of course, would in no case have been one to offer personal reverence to the monarch. He was not, however, in Oxford at the moment, having left to gain news as to the attempt at negotiation which was still to be made, and quite a band of clerks who had arms and horses had accompanied him, eager beyond measure for the coming fray, and, if the truth were to be told, by no means anxious that peace should be restored before the appeal to arms had been made.

"I scarce know the city," said Alys to Leofric, as they rode through the streets, in which the citizens were grouped about, but which were so strangely bereft of their crowds of gowned scholars. "Methinks his Majesty will repent him when he sees what his decree hath done. And methinks he would repent him still more did he know how many stout-hearted soldiers he has dismissed to join his foes. I trow that if the rival armies meet face to face, there will be many an Oxford clerk in the ranks who will deal deadly blows to the King's cherished troops."

Leofric was of the same opinion. He had had some ado in restraining Jack from joining himself to one of the bands sallying forth in search of adventure and warlike pastime. Leofric was of opinion that sooner or later the rupture would come, and they would have to range themselves beside their champion, and perhaps strike a blow in defence of their cause; but he had no desire to anticipate this moment, and still hoped that some good might come of the impending negotiations, although the haughty bearing of King Henry's knights and nobles as they rode into Oxford went far to quench this lingering hope.

The King was haughty in his bearing towards both Constable and Chancellor, whom he knew to be friends of De Montfort. He chided them somewhat roundly in face of all his company for the recent riot, and even threw out a hint of displacing them from office if this sort of thing went on.

He was more gracious in his bearing towards the municipal authorities, but was still very much the triumphant monarch, visiting a turbulent city which had once caused him trouble, but where he meant for the future to be very much the master.

His demeanour did not inspire either respect or confidence in the hearts of those who saw him, and only when he approached the precincts of St. Frideswyde's shrine did he begin to comport himself differently.